Bleeding
by funky pink high top
Summary: Gordo is having a hard time... fights. White pills and neon lights. Sixpence None the Richer songs. And one very savvy shoe trying to write like a man.


A/N: Well, this is.. ::cough:: interesting. Me, writing in a male POV? HIDE YOUR CHILDREN!!!  
  
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Disclaimer: No, I don't own Lizzie McGuire, because then I wouldn't waste my time writing fan fiction when I could be having sex with Larry Tudgeman! ::cough:: not that I WANT to or anything.  
  
I also don't own "Bleeding" by Sixpence None the Richer.  
  
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Neon lights flashed across the sweating bodies in the otherwise dark room. Brushing against each other, it was soon hard to tell who was who. But it didn't matter anymore. At a party, anything and everything was gone. What happened then wasn't mentioned in the linoleum halls of school. They were two worlds, two worlds for one person.  
  
Deep inside the darkest night  
  
Is drinking in the light  
  
From pinholes pricked  
  
Holy needles nicked  
  
In a canopy of white  
  
I felt myself slowly blend in. Not so much with the people, but with the background. I wasn't there to anyone but those who reluctantly spoke to me, uttering the time I asked for or a nod of existence. My solidarity was nothing new. I was used to just being a chair or, better yet, wallpaper. But I wasn't so alone before.  
  
I'm alone, I'm alone  
  
And I'm beating my soul to make it bleed a drop of hope  
  
Then I'll drink it up in a golden cup and let it grow inside  
  
My heart races as a tress of hair I spot. It was most definitely hers, though which 'her' I was referring to wasn't very apparent.  
  
And I fear that you've gone away  
  
But you must be somewhere near  
  
I was never sure why my heart raced, or why that faint feeling floated to my head. I spent most of my life trying not to. I tried not to care she might be gone. They might be gone. Maybe I thought that I had made them go. I was always such an ass, after all. Never mentioning how I felt. I didn't want to be thought of as gay, but I didn't care what other people thought. I locked myself in, hoping no one would ever see what I was thinking.  
  
The fire fades so the deepest shades  
  
Slowly trickle down the wall  
  
In a room I hide will I come outside  
  
And have some kind of fall  
  
I had to say something. I pushed my way through the ocean of bodies towards who I now recognized as Lizzie. I felt my heart sort of fall and wondered why. Didn't I want to see her?  
  
No. I wasn't ready to see her. She had gone a long time ago, disappeared into a better spotlight. It wasn't her that changed, it was how people saw her. I wasn't ready to see her differently too.  
  
I searched for Miranda. Yes, I could talk to her. I found her standing with Parker and Larry, chatting about something casually. I stood there and opened my mouth to speak.  
  
All my words, all my words  
  
They have lost all their worth  
  
Nothing's good enough for anyone  
  
They stared at me, expectantly. I closed my mouth suddenly, walking away. There wasn't a use anymore. Paranoia wrapped in a fickle blanket as I frantically searched for somewhere, anywhere to go.  
  
I immediately spotted a bathroom and dashed into it, slipping on the white tile and falling. I slammed the door shut and sat on the blank floor, drinking in what had just happened.  
  
I need a life, I thought grimly. No, that's not it. I didn't need life. I picked at the blue terry cloth on the floor. It was too awful. I thought about populations starving, grenades firing, death knocking. Nothing and everything made sense.  
  
And the look on my face  
  
Leaves a subtle trace of the change  
  
That is to come  
  
And then, falling back, I thought about what there was to live for. Freshly mown grass and the smell of rain. Hot French fries and laughing with my friends. They held such blurred memories, the almost seemed as horrible as the bad.  
  
I glanced in the mirror. My reflection wasn't as recognizable as I remembered. It was smudged with a thought I didn't dare utter.  
  
And I fear that you've gone away  
  
But you must be somewhere near  
  
Suicide. It drowned out my thoughts late at night, lurking in the shadows. The word was filled with emptiness, and I felt a shudder run through my body at it.  
  
But suddenly it was filled with light. Eerily, I found myself searching the room for any answers. I wanted to find a piece of paper, to write a dramatic goodbye. I wondered what I wanted to say. I flung open the medicine cabinet, looking for something. My eyes met a bottle of white prescription pills and I wondered where I was really.  
  
And I fear that you've gone away  
  
But you must be somewhere near  
  
Without thinking, I stuffed them into the pocket on my pants and left the bathroom, searching.  
  
"Hey, Claire?," I cleared my throat, tapping the girl's shoulder. She sighed and rolled her eyes, trying to ignore me. "Claire?"  
  
"What?," She snapped, turning away from some jock to look down on me.  
  
"Do you have a-any paper around here?," I stuttered.  
  
"The desk in the front hall, top drawer," She rolled her eyes and turned back to the guy flirtatiously, shrugging me off.  
  
I rushed to the desk and grabbed some stationery. A curly cursive 'M' blossomed at the top. I stared at it for a moment before ripping the piece of paper in half. It wasn't the way to go. I went searching for Miranda again, finding the words perched on my tongue.  
  
And I fear that you've gone away  
  
But you must be somewhere near  
  
"Miranda?," I said hesitantly, her back to me. She turned around. Her face was blank. "I'm sorry." She turned around again, her arms crossed. She continued talking to a confused Parker.  
  
"Miranda," I said firmly. "I just wanted to say goodbye."  
  
"Okay - wait. You're leaving already?," She checked her watch.  
  
"The world," I said lamely. I was immediately reminded of every sappy drama ever made. She stared at me with the same blank expression.  
  
"What.," She paused. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"I don't feel like living anymore, " I said coolly, secretly delighted at this new found attention. An attention I had been waiting for, for a while.  
  
"Gordo," She grabbed my shoulders, "You can't be serious."  
  
"I am."  
  
"No! No, you're not!," She cried. "You can't do this. Don't. I mean. you're my friend, Gordo. And I'm sorry we fought and all, but it doesn't mean you have to -"  
  
"It's not about that," I interrupted her suddenly. "It's about this." I waved my arms around. "It's about living and dying and - and how I'm treated. How I don't even matter. How nothing really matters to me." And then, quietly, I pulled out the bottle, showing it to her. Her eyes widened and filled with tears.  
  
"You already did it, didn't you?"  
  
"No, I -"  
  
"How could you do this to me?!" And then, she stormed off. I stared after her, blinking. What?!  
  
Suddenly, it grew more confusing than I had thought. I didn't know my mind could be anymore jumbled.  
  
"I'm an idiot," I mumbled angrily. Parker stared at me, not quite sure what was happening. "I'm an idiot!" I dropped the bottle and ran after Miranda, not sure what to say or where I was going.  
  
"Miranda!" I found her outside. The wind carried the smell of rain. Wet grass clung to my sneakers as I walked across the lawn towards her. She leaned against the brick wall, sniffling. She hid her face when she saw me, but didn't move as I stood next to her.  
  
"I thought you were smart," She said first.  
  
"So did I," I replied quietly. We sat in silence for a minute. Wind tossed her hair and I felt a slight smile appear on my face.  
  
"You know, this is the only place in the world I want to be right now," I nodded as she looked at me curiously. "I wish Lizzie was here." I immediately regretted it, watching her face fall. "You know, I didn't take them." She nodded slowly.  
  
"I didn't think you would," She bit her lip. "Do I ignore you or something?"  
  
"No," I said thoughtfully. "I think I ignore myself."  
  
"I definitely don't get you," She almost laughed.  
  
"I think you do. Sometimes. I guess it IS hard." She nodded. "Do you ever feel. lost? I mean, like you're lost in your own body?"  
  
"Yeah," She confessed.  
  
"Me too."  
  
"Gordo?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Some day. maybe we can help each other find what we're looking for."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
And I fear that you've gone away  
  
But you must be somewhere near. 


End file.
